Los Angeles daily herald., 1887-08-21

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like this has happened to me-. In
order to keep abreast with the times
a writer should read everything, but
if he attempts to do it he will have no
opportunity to produce any work OF
his own.
From Mrs. Archer in New York to Frank
Ford in San Gabriel:
My Dear Frtend-When l inform
you that Mr.. Prime is dead and buried,
you will not wonder at my long silence.
The last words he uttered were: EN-
lily, in dying, l have but one regret.
1t is that | cannot marry you and
leave you my entire fortune" l miss
him very much; he was uniformly
kind to me. have rented my house
and am going to take my children
abroad. We will spend year or two
travelling through England, Ireland,
Scotland, etc., after which we will set
| tie down for few years in Paris,
where want Ned and Emily to COM
plete their educations. l should like
to arrange before l leave to write a
series of foreign letters for one of
our leading journals but for rea-
sons which you will appreciate,
l shall not crafty the desire, on ac-
count of my associations with Mr.. 2.
The least / am known and talked
about, the better it will be for my
children. l shall effect compromise
by carrying on a voluminous corre-
spondence with you.
From Frank Ford in Los Angeles to Mrs
| Archer in Paris:
Nh Dear Friend-It is five years
since migrated to California, yet i'm
proved health excepted | am no better
off than when l came. If l had not
been weighed down by the thirst for
fame which cannot quench, but
which it seems is productive only of
misery to me, l might have accumu-
lated wealth; for the growth of the
City of the Angels is marvellous, but
as all l have done l have done with
my left hand, l have accomplished
nothing. To be sure, l own small
chicken ranch, which keeps me above
want and allows me an abundance of
time for my accursed literary work /;
but my revenue is so meagre that it
can scarcely Re called living. How
ever, l like the quiet and freedom of
my present life, and if l could only
make a bit should be comparatively
happy. Still, there is a hobgoblin,
which, sleeping or waking, torments
me. 1t is the recollection that
in cold blood l sacrificed
Nellie and my mother upon the
alter of my ambition. Sometimes,
wake up suddenly at night, and see
one or both of them, looking reproach-
fully at me, out of the darkness while
| am re eatedly aroused from my day
dreams by the fancied sound of their
voice calling to me for help. l do not
know which is the hardest to bear,
remorse or disappointment, such as
only an unsuccessful aspirant can ex-
perience. | am now writing love
stories for one of our local papers. l
receive nothing for them, but thanks.
What substitute for fame is this,
after ten years of ceaseless toll.
Emily, the world never honors the
price man or woman pays for liter
ary celebrity. Biographies tell how
this notable and that. fought with
poverty and rebuff. How again and
again editor and publisher were vainly
interviewed but they never describe
the struggles of the soul, or the dispair
and the heartache which play so con-
spicuous part in the inner life of
every writer who has ever become
| great.
From Mrs. Archer. in Paris, to Frank Ford,
! in Los Angeles.
| Mu Dear Friend:-As it has been
six months since | wrote you, / do
not wonder that you reproach me for
my silence; but when | tell you that
the time has gone by on such golden
wings that | have taken no note of it,
l am sure you will pardon me. Since
my residence in this city have been
so happy as to make two dear friends,
One is Sidonie D'Argantal, the actress
over whom Paris is going mad; the
other-but let me tell you first about
Sidonie. She is beautiful, brilliant
and wonderfully talented; but, above
all, she is a woman in every sense of
the word. If she was coquette she
would be as famous for her conquests
as she is for her genius; but her tastes
are simple, her nature is domestic, and
she lives a very quiet life. She is
always attended by her mother, to
whom she is devoted, and who acts as
her manager. l confess do not adj
mire Nine. D'Argantal as much as l
would like to, but she certainly is an
extremely shrewd woman and takes
the best care of her daughter. At
first was inclined to believe that she
was mercenary and exacting with
Mademoiselle, but since i have come
to understand her better, l find that
to promote Sidonie's welfare is her
governing passion. l made Made
moiselle D'Argantal's acquaintance
the first night l saw her play. She
was impersonating Camille" and so
touching and so real was her portray
al that l felt could not leave the
house without personally addressing
her. Consequently / wrote upon the
back of card / chanced to have with
me "An American lady who has just
arrived in Paris, and who is infatuat-
ed with your acting, begs to be favored
by an interview" A few minutes
later, the idol of the French metrop-
oils was seated beside me in the box
which my children and l occupied,
and if possible I liked Sidonie the
woman, better than Sidonie the
actress, and she has since acknowl-
edged that she was mutually drawn
toward me. Well, she gave me her
address and asked me to call upon
her, which during the ensuing morn
in | did. Since then l have seen her
daily, and have learned to love her,
as never loved any one hut my hus-
band and my children. Now word
about my other friend. He is the
Count de Varicourt, the remote but
direct kinsman of Rene Phileberte